Mom and Dad and SelfSealing Stembolts
by THECURSOR
Summary: T'Pol and Trip are married, now if only everything else could go right.
1. Default Chapter

Mom and Dad and Self Sealing Stem Bolts   
  
By THECURSOR  
  
I own nothing  
  
When people write those relationship future fics, they never seem to write much about the day to day lives of everyone's favorite Vulcan-Human relationship or even how they deal with the big emergencies. To them, this marriage would be this never ending whirlwind of passion and big, world shaking adventures involving Romulans and Klingons and purple skinned Qs. I, naturally being the devil's advocate that I am, have a much different take on the future…  
  
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"Mother, may I have cupcakes?"   
  
"No, you may not."   
  
"But mother, they will provide me with many useful carbohydrates that will power my juvenile metabolism."   
  
It was quite possibly the most unusual tantrum ever thrown in a supermarket by a child. There was no screaming, no yelling, and no crying. All it consisted of was T'Mir Tucker and her mother, T'Pol, quietly arguing over the merits of pre dinner snacks as they stood in the checkout line waiting for their turn at the register.   
  
"I have already made plans for a nutritious meal, allowing you to eat pastries would not allow those plans to come to fruition."  
  
"Not so if you let me eat them after dinner is completed."   
  
More then a few people turned their heads at very calm manner in which the daughter tried to insist on the purchase of cupcakes to her equally calm mother. In fact a lot of the parents watching the pair's display found themselves wishing their own children would throw fits like the very organized little girl in front of them. But T'Pol honestly found herself preferring the loud screaming match of a human girl to the well thought out presentations T'Mir seemed to pull out of thin air every time there was something she wanted to convince her to buy.   
  
Fully human parents just didn't realize how easy they really had it.   
  
"It is not too late mother; we can still return to the baked goods aisle and acquire twelve cupcakes for a very reasonable price."   
  
"The answer is still no, T'Mir."   
  
"But the answer is illogical if the proper reasoning is not provided."  
  
"I am your parent, I require no reasoning."   
  
Unfortunately, T'Pol wasn't able to catch herself in time before the massive contradiction left her mouth. Ever since she had become a mother, she had started having these lapses in her concentration on a daily basis and she found herself struggling to maintain the proper level of discipline in the presence of her children's insidious intelligence. Though she loathed admitting it to anyone, T'Pol had slowly begun to understand why Surak had led a life of celibacy in a monastery. Parenthood was the most illogical of all pursuits.  
  
"I find your logic flawed." T'Mir said as she absentmindedly took her mother's hand in preparation of their departure from the store. Though the young girl's emotional control rivaled that of her mother, T'Pol could easily tell the annoyed edge in her daughter's voice.   
  
Not for the first time that day, the Enterprise's former science officer stifled a sigh. "One day T'Mir I hope your logic becomes as flawed as my own."   
  
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T'Pol was a little shocked to see her husband sitting at the kitchen table with their fourteen year old daughter, his usually jovial manner replaced by an annoyed scowl. "Charles, why are you not at work?" Then her eyes fell on her teenage daughter's shamed but angry expression, "And why is Elizabeth not in school?"   
  
"Well my darling wife," Captain Charles Tucker III smiled sarcastically and pointed to Lizzie with one finger, "Apparently our daughter, our precious baby girl, has developed an aptitude for the lost art of heavyweight boxing." The former science officer glared at Elizabeth but some how managed to keep her anger suppressed long enough to speak without emotion. "You may go to your room now." She said curtly, not able to trust her voice beyond those seven words.   
  
The unfathomable rage settled down inside her stomach like a knot and T'Pol again wished to be human, to release the burning pressure inside her that demanded release on a deserving daughter. She may very well have done just that if she hadn't felt Trip's gentle hands rubbing the tension out of her shoulders from behind. "You okay?" He asked quietly. He knew she wouldn't tell him if she wasn't but it that had never stopped him from asking before and it wouldn't stop him now. T'Pol simply needed to know he would always be willing to listen if she wanted to talk.   
  
"I am well." She said quietly as one of her hands reached to join with his reassuringly, "You should return to work."   
  
"There's no rush." He whispered into her ear huskily.   
  
"Goodbye Charles." She said in the voice that passed for playfulness on Vulcan and Trip smiled, knowing she was going to be okay.   
  
"Have it your way." He said with a laugh before gently kissing her ear (something that never failed to draw a surprised gasp of pleasure from her) and then turned to say good bye to his youngest child. "Bye sweetie."   
  
"Father, may I go to your place of employment with you today?"   
  
Trip chuckled as he gathered the precocious dark haired child into his arms. She was always trying to copy her mother and ever since T'Pol had done a lecture at the engineering department, T'Mir had insisted on accompanying him to work as often as possible. "Aw, darlin', I don't know your mom might need your help around the house."   
  
The youngster shook her head, her brunette hair flying every where as her head moved. "That is illogical; mother has never required assistance before." She raised her eyebrow slightly as she spoke, reminding Tucker of the woman standing not three feet away, "But I do recall you said you needed more help around the office at dinner two weeks ago, perhaps I could aide you in your tasks."   
  
Trip's chuckle turn into a full blown laugh when he thought about the fact that his daughter may very well have be much smarter then any of his subordinates. "I only wish I could, pumpkin."   
  
"One day I shall attain a Starfleet commission and you will have no choice but to take me to your office." She looked dejected only for a moment before her face lit up with a memory of something. She struggled from Trip's arms and ran into the next room with her feet stomping on the floor the whole way. A few seconds later she returned with a very detailed drawing on a piece of white construction paper.   
  
"I have sketched a Tursiops truncates."   
  
Trip stared at the picture, trying desperately not to let his daughter realize how much smarter she was then him. He could see it was a whale or something but when T'Mir used a scientific name he knew it had to be something really obvious. "Uh…well, it's a very nice-"   
  
"A bottle nosed dolphin." Was T'Pol's interjection and Trip mouthed a quick thank you to his wife before returning to his daughter's innocent face.   
  
"Oh sweetie it's beautiful. I'll hang it on my wall."   
  
"Next to the Panthera tigris altaica?"   
  
"Right next to your picture of the tiger."   
  
T'Mir seemed very pleased by this and halted her interrogation abruptly with a look of self satisfaction. Wrapping her small arms around her father's waist, she squeezed a loving hug before running from the room to play up stairs.   
  
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There was a beep as the wall screen in Trip's office as a short message prompt flashed across the blank screen.   
  
Deep Space One  
  
Off duty   
  
Priority   
  
Tucker was at the console immediately, smashing the buttons that accepted the subspace signal and minimized every other programs currently running. He smiled when the prompt quickly transitioned into a live feed of a young blonde man in Starfleet blues. "Charlie, buddy, how you doin'?" It had been at least three months since Trip had last talked to his eldest son and as much as it pained him, he hadn't even thought about the boy in just that long. He smiled at the image on the screen, relishing the chance to talk to his absentee child.   
  
Ensign Charles Tucker IV did not smile back. In fact, he looked terrible, nervous and unable to meet his father's gaze from across subspace. "Uh…hey Dad."   
  
"Don'tcha 'hey Dad' me, you little rascal, You gotta call me every once and a while!"   
  
"Yeah. Okay."   
  
"And your mom's been worried sick about you…"   
  
"Dad. "  
  
"…Nagging me ta go out there and check on ya…"   
  
"DAD!" And for the first time, Trip saw the look of utter fear on his boy's face. The way he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. Charles had always been a little shy and edgy, but never like this. "Son what's wrong?" Before the question had even left his lips, Trip looked beyond his son and saw the telltale white walls of a Starfleet brig and the frowning face of the on duty guard.   
  
"Dad, I…I think I'm in a lot of trouble." He swallowed, then gulped air to force out the words. "This girl I sort of…had…sex with. She's an alien and her family's pressing charges."   
  
For the first time in his life, Trip had nothing to say.   
  
To Be Continued 


	2. 2

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T'Pol knocked again on the antique wooden door, awaiting her daughter to finally answer it.   
  
Nothing.   
  
"Elizabeth, I insist that you open this door."   
  
There was a slight banging sound as something, it sounded like a shoe, was thrown roughly against the door on the other side near the position where T'Pol's head would have rested if the door had been open. The former Science officer found herself forcefully restraining her own arm to make sure she didn't punch a hole through the door like it was cardboard. She had grown tired of Elizabeth's constant misbehavior and of her foul mouth and inappropriate dress. This had to end.   
  
Obviously, if her daughter desired to spend time in her room then the logical path of least resistance dictated that Elizabeth could stay in her room.   
  
Indefinitely.   
  
Feeling the beginnings of yet another headache squeezing her skull like a vice, T'Pol suddenly felt the urge to meditate quietly in her room for a few hours. "I shall return shortly before dinner, if you still can not bring yourself to face me by that time then please consider yourself confined to that room."   
  
As expected, the thump of Elizabeth's other sneaker colliding with the door was the first sound that followed her speech.   
  
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Trip waited anxiously for his transmission to moved through the security encoding program and download on to the inter office subspace net. A slight buzzing feeling settled in the bottom of his stomach, a certain anticipation churning around with his afternoon coffee.   
  
When his transmission was finally approved Trip tried not to notice that the buzzing feeling had leaped into his throat and rested on the edge of his tongue, ready to jump out at the first victim he wanted to aim a barb at.   
  
"Morning, Tri-"  
  
"If you wanna make it a good morning, Mayweather, you can get my son outta his god damned jail cell!"   
  
Admiral Travis Mayweather just sighed and pushed all the other paper work on his desk off to the side. He had been expecting this call ever since he'd first heard the news from Deep Space One last night. "Please lower your voice, Trip." He asked as diplomatically a voice as possible, "The last thing I need is for my secretary to call security when I'm the only one in the room."   
  
Trip fumed but did lower his voice to a angry hiss. "Ta HELL with your secretary, what about my son?"   
  
"I'm looking in to it now, alright? I want to know the details as much as you do."   
  
"They're talking about court martialing my son, Travis!"   
  
Mayweather slammed his fist on his desk and pointed at his side of the view screen, his temper now in full display. "Nobody is saying anything about a criminal trial, it's being investigated and Charles is in the brig on a different charge, okay?"   
  
None of this calmed Trip down. The yelling, the pointing, the subject matter itself, all it did was make Tucker want to explode at his former subordinate and take out all the very angry feelings of parental responsibility on him.   
  
"Other charge?"   
  
"Dereliction of duty, the kid was purposefully late to his shift because he was seeing this girl." Mayweather didn't let trip interrupt him, just kept talking in the hopes that something he say would calm Trip's nerves a little. "You have to understand Trip; this wasn't just some local girl hanging around the station. This is royalty, the daughter of a foreign dignitary. Men aren't even allowed to speak to her on her planet and your son was…well, they found them curled up in a Jeffries tube for god's sake."   
  
Trip shook his head, trying to clear his brain. Already he could tell this was going to be a long day. "Travis", he asked a little calmer this time as he massaged the tension out of his temples, "Exactly how much do you know about what happened?"   
  
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Charley had been waiting for the transmission from his father, Trip could tell because he hadn't really moved from the same view screen in the station brig he had sent his first message to his father hours ago. The mean looking guard that had been standing in the background of the last transmission was gone at least; Tucker thanked the universe for small favors at least. He didn't really want anyone overhearing what he was about to say anyway.   
  
"Dad-"   
  
"Cram it!" Trip almost regretted yelling at the boy when he saw the crushed look on his face "Is what Admiral Mayweather's been tellin' me true, boy?"  
  
There was a moment of hesitation on his son's part and then "Yeah, probably."   
  
"Unbe-fucking-lievable! You mean to tell me you actually blew off your duty shift, allowed a foreign civilian into a restricted area and then had sex with said civilian in SAID RESTRICTED AREA!? What the hell were you thinking?"   
  
Charley looked like he was going to cry and Tucker started feeling guilty again about yelling at him. But this was just so unexpected. His son had never exactly been a very outgoing or confident kid. He didn't speak his first word until he was five years old and even then it was only in a nervous stutter. Frankly, Tucker simply couldn't picture his son even talking to girls let alone doing something like this.   
  
"You gonna answer your father or what?"   
  
Tucker watched as his son stared, inhaled with a sigh, and rose from his chair. "Or what Dad."   
  
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Dinner at the Tucker house was uncharacteristically quiet that night. Ordinarily, Elizabeth would have been talking their ears off about something that happened at school or after school or on the way to school. But now she was upstairs, locked in her room.   
  
And while Trip would've normally filled the void teasing his wife or smile at T'Mir but tonight he didn't feel like talking. He hadn't told T'Pol about what had happened with Charles. She had been so stressed lately, wound so tight. He was hoping he could spare her the knowledge that her baby boy was stuck in a jail cell orbiting another star. Maybe he could think of a way to take care of this without anything even getting back to her. "Listen, I just found out I need to go to deep space one for a few days," He began to feel guilty before he even finished lying. "Brass thinks their reactor might need an overhaul and they want me to do a little evaluation."   
  
T'Pol took another sip of her soup then responded with detached interest. "Give my regards to Charles while you are there."   
  
"Are you leaving tomorrow Daddy?" T'Mir looked up at him with veiled disappointment and tried not to sound sad. "Because tomorrow is picture day."   
  
Trip smacked his forehead in remembrance before smiling at his youngest daughter. "Aw shoot I almost forgot about that! I'll have to reschedule my flight out so I can be here."   
  
T'Pol watched her husband and daughter conversing happily but distantly she wondered if having reporters within her home was such a good idea when she couldn't even get Elizabeth to come down the stairs.   
  
Almost as if in agreement, a loud thump sounded from Elizabeth's room.   
  
T'Pol took another sip of soup.   
  
To Be Continued 


	3. 3

AN/ People have actually asked me why T'Pol isn't working too. I guess it's a good thing I already wrote a background for this.   
  
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Travis sat across from Charley holding the PADD containing the young ensign's case. He had read it at least fifty times, over and over again, but for the life of him he couldn't see what had happened.   
  
A well behaved but slightly shy, ensign working as a personal porter to the various dignitaries and rulers that passed through the station on ambassadorial duties for their various planets and empires. And then all of a sudden disciplinary problems, requests to be transferred, outbursts in the hallway. All of these incidents occurring after he was assigned to Princess Nerul's section. It just didn't make sense.   
  
When he was finally tired of reading, the Admiral finally just threw up his hands and stared Charley in square in the eye. "Alright, start talking. I know you wouldn't talk to Trip but you are gonna tell me exactly what was going on with this girl."   
  
There was a moment of absolute quiet, like he was going to drop some kind of bombshell or something. But the words that followed weren't exactly a revelation. "I fell in love with her."   
  
"That's it?"   
  
"That's it. There wasn't anything wrong or illicit going on, I just…never fell in love before and it got kind of out of hand."   
  
Mayweather looked around the brig, trying to comprehend what this kid's idea of 'out of hand' was. "Charley, you could be in a lot of trouble here. You might be court martialed."   
  
Since the day he was born, the fourth man to bear the name Charles Tucker had always had a knack for understatement, but today he seemed in rare form. "I know."   
  
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Of all the various traditions celebrated by the Tucker family, Picture Day was by far the most unusual. It had no origins in Human or Vulcan society and was unique to this one family in the entire universe.   
  
Since the Tucker family was humanity's first experience with a long term interspecies relationship, the local newspapers and media had taken quite an interest in the day to day lives of Trip, T'Pol, and later their children. Since the idea of their offspring living beneath a public microscope didn't sit very well with Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, Trip decided to strike a kind of 'devil's bargain' with the Intergalactic Media: every year on the same day, the Tucker family would open their home to any reporter who wanted to interview, photograph, or generally harass them for the sake of a slow news day.   
  
When he had been a little boy, Charles IV had been terrified of the cameras and usually ran into his room in tears rather then pose for a picture. This lack of clear photographs of the boy naturally led to some odd assumptions among the Vulcan High Command that there was no Human/Vulcan hybrid and that the Humans had simply made him up for political gain. It wasn't until Charles' tenth birthday that T'Pol finally managed to explain to her son that his camera shy behavior was causing an intergalactic incident and that the following Picture Day he had to remain still for at least a few photographs. His sister, Elizabeth, behaved only slightly better.   
  
Lately she seemed to use Picture Day as an excuse for embarrassing or aggravating her mother. T'Pol had stopped counting the number of times she had the urge to revise her 'positive reinforcement' method of child rearing. Trip naturally found this hilarious, since his personal views on paddling his kids were always clearly in favor of 'yes'. Watching his wife struggling with her clean cut Vulcan methods was very often hilarious.   
  
The only member of the family who actually seemed to whole heartedly enjoy the family's mock holiday was T'Mir. Every year, she tried to establish herself as a (in her words) "thoroughly logical example of a juvenile hybrid" what ever that meant. While she would often try to cover her emotions with the same logical exterior she saw her mother using, it wasn't unusual to see her slip and display some kind of jittery excitement or anticipation over the imminent arrival of the news writing community. This year was no exception.   
  
"Have they arrived yet?" T'Mir sat crossed legged in front of the holoviewer, pretending to watch her favorite program but in reality was obsessed with her chosen outfit, one of her mother's hand me down meditation robes from her youth. "I am growing impatient."   
  
"They get here when they get here." Trip said as he tousled her hair playfully with one hand.   
  
"FA-THER! I must present myself to the Media!"   
  
"All right, all right! Go fix your hair." Tucker tried not to laugh as his daughter scrambled up the stairs to her room to do just that. He still felt a little guilty about not telling T'Pol about Charley but if he was lucky, He could go to DS-1 after this was all over and clear this whole thing up before she ever even found out. All he had to do was resist the urge to tell her.   
  
"Charles?" His wife's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he again had to push down the guilt welling up from not telling her about her son's situation.  
  
"Yeah honey?"   
  
"They have arrived."   
  
And sure enough Tucker looked past his wife to the front lawn of their home and saw what had to be at least sixty reporters of various races, each with a camera or personal recorder not too far away from their person. It seemed like there were more then usual this year for some reason.   
  
Then suddenly, a realization struck Trip. It was almost like this was something more then a human interest piece. Like there was some other story these guys were looking for. His eyes went wide as the answer came to him. He tried to wave his hands to stop his wife from answering a question but it was already too late.   
  
"Dr. T'Pol? Keith Studderd Neptune Colony Free Press, what's your reaction to your son's arrest?"   
  
"I beg your pardon?"   
  
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The reporters were hurried out off the property as soon as possible, nobody really wanted to be there anymore any way. T'Mir was asked to play quietly in her room while her parents talked. As usual, the dark haired child obeyed immediately and soon Tucker was left standing in the front hallway of his home, square in the sights of his very angry wife. She didn't say anything for a few minutes; obviously she was trying to find a way to express displeasure with out actually doing any yelling at him. Trip knew that was when she was usually at her maddest, when she lacked the ability to express it unemotionally. When T'Pol finally got started, Trip wasn't entirely sure what to say.   
  
"How dare you." This wasn't said to him loudly, or even angrily. It was simply spoken. There was kind of casualness about it. Trip recognized it as the same tone T'Pol used to ask for salt at dinner. No rage, just 'How dare you and pass the peas.' For a moment, the former engineer felt all the oxygen in the room disappear and his throat getting very dry. "My son has been accused of a crime and you decided that this was not worth my attention? What facts do you have to accompany this logic?"   
  
"It's just…you've been under a lot of pressure lately-"   
  
"Not enough that I do not wish to know the welfare of my son."   
  
"Would you let me finish?" Trip knew that yelling at her was only going to make things worse but it was getting hard not to, she had him in a corner and it didn't feel very good. "I didn't want to add to your problems." T'Pol's eyes narrowed and one of her eyebrows rose, "What problems?"  
  
"Y'know," Trip suddenly realized what a bad idea it was bringing this up, "the whole…university thing…" T'Pol's narrowed eyes turned into slits.   
  
"I was not 'fired'"   
  
"Did I say that? Of course I didn't say that! I know how angry you get when I say you got fired!" Trip could almost feel his mouth filling with shoe. "Aw, honey I'm sorry…" But she just waved him away. "I assume this is why you were going to Deep Space One?" Trip lowered his head in shame, well aware he was in the dog house.   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Do you desire me to come with you?"   
  
He sighed, "No, I think I should go alone first. I don't wanna crowd the kid or anything."   
  
"Good then we will discuss your lying when you return." Before he could respond, she was already up the stairs.   
  
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Trip arrived on Deep Space One a little after 1400 hours on the chronometer and tired not to yell at Travis as soon as he saw him two hours later on the station Promenade but the temptation was rather hard to resist. "You wanna explain how the press found out about this, Admiral?"   
  
Travis gritted his teeth. He wasn't really used to people talking to him like this, he had been an admiral for well over seven years now. He had to remind himself that the only reason he was tolerating it from Trip was their past service together, not that Tucker wasn't making all that seem like the distant past. "Some one on the station crew opened his mouth in the wrong bar; it wasn't anyone from my office."   
  
"Yeah, whatever." Tucker didn't even bother waiting to see if his old friend followed him, he just started walking in the direction he knew the brig had to be in. "Let's go see my son."   
  
To Be Continued 


	4. 4

Chapter Four  
  
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Excluding bathroom breaks and late night meals, Elizabeth Tucker had pretty much spent the better part of two days locked in her room. While this period of inactivity had gone a long in convincing T'Pol of her iron will but was seriously cutting into her social life. Her wall comm, the only connection to the outside world she had, was only barely managing to keep her connected to the various friends, acquaintances, and potential boyfriends of the week that fill the waking mind of a fourteen year old girl.   
  
It wasn't enough though, she needed fresh air. Maybe it was Lizzie's own denial or a flaw of her own unformed teenage mind, but for some reason she couldn't see just how many unusual personality traits she shared with her mother. She was stubborn, independent to a fault, and also…an explorer. She couldn't be cooped up inside a house all day; she had to be outside to witness the wonders of the universe around her.   
  
Even if she was proving a point, Elizabeth HAD to get out of this room.   
  
After several hours of turning this fact over in her mind, a plan began to form.   
  
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Trip looked at his son through the sound proof barrier separating them. He just stood there for a moment, observing the boy who shared his name. Tucker smiled at this thought, everyone kept calling Charley ' kid' or 'boy' but as he watched him silently without his knowledge Trip was once again reminded that his son was not a child. He was a full grown man, maybe a little on the skinny on the side, but an adult none the less. As mad as he was, he couldn't beat back the smile of pride that tugged at the edge of his lips like a playful cat on a piece of string. Even rotting in the brig, Charles was keeping his head held high and his shoulders square. It was good to know at least that much had rubbed off.   
  
Finally, Tucker decided that the moment was over and leaned in with one hand to tap lightly on the plastiglass until he finally managed to acquire his son's attention. If it were possible, Charles seemed to straighten even further. He mouthed the words 'Dad' but it took a minute for him to realize that Tucker couldn't hear him so Trip strolled slowly over to the wall comm and pressed the button with the same hand he tapped on the glass.   
  
"Charles."   
  
His son's voice sounded kind of tinny over the speaker but he did sound glad to see him. Any familiar face in a situation like this one was probably appreciated. "Dad, I-well, I mean to say-"  
  
"Hello to you too."   
  
"Yeah, I was getting to that."   
  
"Takin' ya a while."   
  
It had always been a lot harder for Trip to talk to his son then his other children because there was very little common ground to work with. Trip was an engineer, a man concerned with the concrete facts of taking something apart and putting it back together. But before his arrest, Charley was training to be a helmsman and a pilot had nothing in common with an engineer. It wasn't about the facts with pilots; it wasn't even about the laws of physics. To a helmsman the most important thing in the universe was the feel of a spacecraft. How it moved and reacted under the careful guided hand of a trained professional and the only fact you could truly rely on was the control stick or guidance terminal in your hands. In a way, it was this basic rift in thought processes that sometimes created these long awkward silences between the father and son.   
  
Trip watched as Charley rubbed the back of his neck, sighing and looking up at the ceiling for a little strength. "So," There was a pause as he swallowed and he tried to form the words to speak to his father, "Thanks for coming."  
  
"Your welcome."   
  
"Is mom…?"  
  
Trip was reluctant to break this news; Charley had always been a little terrified of his mother. "She's pissed. I mean, she's not sayin' she's pissed but you know your mother…"  
  
"Yeah."   
  
Another awkward silence. It was Trip's turn to sigh this time. "Y'know I'm gonna go ta bat for you no matter what right?" Charley just nodded quietly and Trip decided that meant it was okay to keep going. He still had to ask the big questions after all.   
  
"But if I am, I gotta know my son didn't do anything wrong."  
  
Another nod. "Did you do something wrong with this woman?"  
  
"No." The answer was almost instantaneous and firm. There was no hesitation. "Then I guess, that's all I need to know."   
  
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T'Mir was a very perceptive little girl. She was well aware that something was wrong and that her mother was very upset about something but there was only one way to find out what was going on. "Mother?"   
  
T'Pol did not bother to take her eyes off the pot containing the night's upcoming meal since she was already fairly certain what T'Mir was going to ask. "Not until after dinner-"   
  
"That was not the question I was going to pose to you mother."   
  
Slowly, T'Pol turned to face her daughter's inquiry. "Then what did you wish to ask?" A human child would have hesitated and a Vulcan one would have at least found a better way to phrase it but since T'Mir was a little of both…  
  
"Are you leaving the path of Surak?" In spite of the fact that her hearing was near perfect, T'Pol suddenly found herself doubting if she had heard her daughter correctly. Her eyebrow rose slowly from her face in shock and then lowered slowly as suspicion began to set in. "May I ask what has lead to this line of questioning?"   
  
"You have steadily become more emotional in the past few weeks and you're temperament has been decidedly negative." The little girl kept her voice even and Vulcan like but T'Pol thought for a moment that her daughter sounded…worried. "I was under the impression that perhaps you were preparing to break from Vulcan tradition."  
  
"Merely giving birth to you was a break from tradition T'Mir."   
  
"Yes, but are you going to?"   
  
"T'Mir…"  
  
"But you have been arguing with father quite often recently with increasing emotional expression." T'Pol resisted a sigh, knowing that would only make things worse. Silently she cursed the strange combination of genetic material that had spawned a child that possessed both Vulcan intelligence and human curiosity. "I have been arguing with you father because he is illogical."   
  
"Perhaps so but that is no reason to leave the path."   
  
"I have not-T'MIR!"   
  
"You are getting emotional, mother."   
  
T'Pol knew that she could not win at this line of questioning. Her daughter was far too persistent and well organized in her pursuit of the truth to be deterred with simple dismissals. She would need to actually explain what was going on, why she had been so upset recently. She recalibrated the stove to auto cook and readjusted the pot to stir itself before finally turning to face the inquisitive child with a question of her own. "T'Mir," she began as she settled down in the seat immediately next to the little girl, "Why would my chosen path of enlightenment be such a concern to you?"   
  
"Because it is important."   
  
"So you have never had a desire for me to act as human mothers do? To display affection openly?"   
  
"Well…sometimes."   
  
"Then why would this concern you?"   
  
There was a look of confusion on the young face, ignorance stemming from innocence. She simply lacked the adult way to voice her exact concerns. T'Mir pondered about this for several more minutes until finally she decided she knew just what to say. "Because you are my mother, you would not be the same if you changed."   
  
T'Pol found herself amazed, marveling at the sheer brilliant simplicity that was T'Mir Elaine Tucker. "Part of me," She said almost wistfully, "Wishes your siblings could hold the same opinion."  
  
"They want you to leave the path?"   
  
"They have not expressed it verbally," She did sigh this time as memories of two childhoods past flooded back to her, "But I have sensed it in them at times. As an example, your brother always cried when I did not embrace him as a baby." The little girl seemed to scoff at this, a slightly humorous sight in one so young since children are not known to scoff.   
  
"They being illogical, mother." She said as she returned to drawing in her notebook, "I am certain that if you ever did change they would feel as I do now."   
  
"Oh? Can you say so of your sister?"   
  
"Yes, her rebellious nature is simply an expression of her own inner turmoil. It has nothing to do with her relationship with you."   
  
There was a beep as the pot came to boil and T'Pol rose to check the contents personally. She did not turn around again, but finished the conversation with a simple response. "To answer your question T'Mir, I am not leaving the path of Surak. I am simply under a great deal of personal strain."   
  
"Good." Was T'Mir's only response.   
  
************************************************************************   
  
It took an hour of waiting in the station conference room before Trip and Travis finally got a chance to meet the girl's father.   
  
Trip disliked War King Vetar instantly. There was just something about the way he carried himself that seemed holier than though. The wily engineer pictured himself through this man's eyes and saw a worm looking up and some kind of majestic eagle or something equally egotistical. The image was just so infuriating that Trip eventually just decided to stop looking at the other guy altogether to keep him from getting the satisfaction of such visualizations.   
  
There was a brief moment of recognition though during the time he did look at Vetar, and for a few moments Trip swore he had seen this man's silken clothing and tanned complexion before. It just seemed…very familiar.   
  
"YOU!" The alien monarch shouted pointing at Trip with an accusing finger, "You are that rapist's father!" Trip felt himself forcing his arm not to swing into this other man's chin.   
  
"I beg your pardon?"   
  
"Do not bother begging human, it will not sway me from having your pervert son prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law!" Trip had to physically restrain himself from hitting this guy. How dare he? How dare he stand in this room and look down his nose at Charles all of the other people that Trip cared about?   
  
While Travis wasn't exactly known for his powers of observation, he was beginning to notice a certain tension between these men and it was starting to make him just a little uncomfortable. He watched as Trip opened his mouth to fire a volley of harsh words at the foreign monarch but Maywheather was faster. "Uh…may we get started?" His words had all the calming effect of a gunshot and Travis got the distinct feeling that these two men were going to be at each other's throat from this point forward.   
  
"Yeah." Trip said as he glared at Vetar as he pulled up a chair on the far side of the table, "Let's get started."   
  
**************************************************************************************   
  
Elizabeth Tucker pushed the door open, being careful not to let the old hinges creak when it hit half way.   
  
It was at least eleven thirty at night and while her sister T'Mir was very likely asleep, Lizzie knew that her mother was known to linger in her meditation until well past midnight. While some mothers claimed to have eyes in the back of their head, T'Pol didn't need eyes to catch her children when they did something wrong. Those sharp Vulcan ears could hear pins dropping down the street and easily find rebellious teenagers in violation of their much-deserved grounding. So she had to be very quiet. Any noise could give her away.   
  
She held her breath and slid her first foot into the hallway. There was no creak from the aging floorboards so she decided that it was safe to continue, the other foot crept in behind the first.   
  
From years of experience at sneaking out of the house so Elizabeth was well aware of where to step in the perilous wooden hallway. If she stuck close to the wall and away from the softest parts of the floor, she stood a very good chance of getting to the back stairs without making too much noise. From there it was relatively smooth sailing which she could thank her father for. Trip had been so annoyed by the old creaks in the stairs that he had every board in the faulty floor replaced. He still hadn't gotten around to the rest of hallway but only because T'Pol wouldn't him.   
  
She must have really enjoyed her early warning system.   
  
But T'Pol must have been asleep because Lizzie was already half way down the stairwell and still nothing. It would only be a few more feet before she was out the door and-  
  
"Computer, lights." For a split second, Lizzie honestly wished that she was imagining the lights going on and her mother's voice ringing in her ears. She turned slowly, sighing when it turned out that her mother's face and voice were VERY real.   
  
"Where do you think you are going, Elizabeth?"   
  
TBC 


	5. 5

************************************************************************   
  
"I love you Charley." When he heard the soft sound of Nerul's voice whispering in his ear Charles Tucker IV knew instantly that it was a dream, especially since he remembered that Nerul never called him Charley. He would always say 'My Princess' and she would simply respond 'My favorite subject.' but for some reason his brain wanted him to fantasize about what his name would sound like if she ever said it to him. How the syllables would fall from her lips like a pleasant summer rain. He inhaled the faux night air around him and let his skin soak in the imaginary moonlight. He was in a garden on Altas 5, which he recognized as the place he first told Nerul he cared for her. Of course things seemed to be going much better this time around since Nerul was alone and not being escorted by that awful Prince Kottello. Not to mention that he was in a tuxedo this time and not the mud splattered uniform he'd been wearing in real life.   
  
But in spite of the historical inaccuracies, Charley had to say that this was a great dream.He chuckled when Nerul moved her mouth from his ear to the nape of his neck and kept whispering sweet nothings that made his heart nearly stop.   
  
"I wish this could last forever." He whispered back to her. In real life that had been her line but now he was the one who never wanted to stop.   
  
"I wish it could too," She said back to him as she stroked her hands across his chest, "But it can't."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Because you have to wake up."   
  
"…you hear me in there? I said wake up, half-breed, you got a visitor."   
  
The perpetually surly rumble of Lieutenant Commander Sinclair slowly filtered into his consciousness and Charley began to wonder if perhaps murder would really be considered wrong in this particular circumstance. "Aye, aye sir." He muttered venomously, which earned him yet another cold stare from the beefy Sinclair.   
  
"Watch your mouth, Tucker." The Jailer said through clenched white teeth, "Cause unlike everybody else around here I don't give a fuck who yer Daddy is!"  
  
There would have been further argument over the matter but Sinclair was forced to retreat into the hallway when Charley's visitor strolled into view. Tucker's heart just sank. "Lord Vetar what a…wonderful…." He was so depressed he couldn't even lie about it properly.   
  
Unlike Vetar who had no intention of lying about how angry he was. "I have come," He said as he drew up an observation chair and settled into it before resuming his hard glare through the Brig glass, "to prove to certain infuriating people that I am not without mercy."   
  
The young ensign didn't need three guess to figure out who that certain person was, only his father could possibly drive someone this crazy. "Your parent has demanded your release on the grounds that you have committed no 'criminal acts' against my family and your superior has conceded this fact." The monarch spit the words out like it was a crime that nobody considered this boy a criminal. Charley suddenly felt very glad for the partition between them.   
  
"So I'm being released?"   
  
"Do not consider yourself to be totally free of worry, rapist!" Vetar screamed, "I still have a civil complaint filed against you tomorrow morning!"   
  
Charley rose to his feet, matching Vetar glare for icy glare. The young ensign surprised even himself when his voice fell into a grating whisper. "I am not a rapist, YOUR HIGHNESS." He emphasized the other man's titles in such a way that it sounded like he'd just called him worthless jackass. "May I please ask why you're here?"   
  
Vetar never took his eyes off Charley, sizing the boy's mettle right up until he started talking. "To provide you with a compromise." He said, "I am willing to drop my civil complaint in exchange for a verbal agreement."   
  
The younger Tucker flashed a look of pure suspicion. "What kind of agreement?"  
  
"That you swear, here and now, to never see my daughter ever again."   
  
For a split second he almost said yes. He was tired and hungry and in need of a shower. Part of him wanted this to be over and to go back to the way things had been before, a nice quiet life hauling luggage until he passed the helmsmen exam.   
  
"Go fuck yourself, your highness."   
  
  
  
************************************************************************   
  
  
  
"Where do you think you are going?"  
  
T'Pol's eyebrow rose and then fell as she regarded her daughter, Elizabeth, who stood before her dressed in a skirt too short for public and too much make up for a girl her age. "I assume you are not going to leave this house as I have expressly forbid you from leaving."   
  
Lizzie scowled at her mother, deeply suppressing the curses of frustration that her plans have once again been foiled by 'Psychic Vulcan of Walnut Avenue.' How in the hell did she even…it wasn't important! What was important was that she could expect another three weeks of couch time and no holovision. Turning with head hung low, Lizzie began her long journey up the stairs to her room.   
  
"Please stay."   
  
Elizabeth didn't quite know what to think when she saw her mother motion to the seat on the couch beside her. Almost as carefully as she had snuck out of her room, she cautiously made way over to the furthest possible seat on the couch from T'Pol.  
  
It was only when she sat down that she noticed the unusual looking book in her mother's lap.   
  
"What's that?" She didn't point at it, just motioned with her jaw in a way meant to make her seem nonchalant.   
  
"My Dovfet."   
  
Elizabeth's Vulcan was not as good as her other siblings (Charles was fluent and T'Mir was practically a native) so it took her a moment a moment to decode the words into English. "Your…progress book?"   
  
"That is correct." T'Pol said simply before re-immersing into the old gray tome. Another thirty seconds of silence passed.   
  
"So what's it about?"   
  
T'Pol did not bother to look up from her reading this time, instead holding a finger on each she word as she read it in case she lost her place. "Each Vulcan mother keeps a record of their children's life which is presented to that child on the day of their wedding." She turned a page and continued, "All major events are recorded and no detail is over looked. It is a way of further organizing a Vulcan's life for the path of Surak."   
  
Lizzie nodded and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of them. "Cool."   
  
Another thirty seconds of silence. "So what part are you reading about now?"   
  
"I am currently reading about the time my mother and I discussed my consistent absences from school and how it troubled her to see my lack of responsibility. It seemed she was afraid that I was traveling the wrong path at that time." T'Pol set the book aside to look at her daughter with very worried eyes, "I am considering writing a similar section for your Dovfet."   
  
Lizzie sighed. "You shouldn't worry about me, I'm fine."   
  
More silence. T'Pol spoke again, not willing to let the subject die. "Then convince me."   
  
And for the first time in a very long time, T'Pol and her daughter talked, REALLY talked, about things that bothered both of them.   
  
************************************************************************   
  
"Hi."   
  
That was all Trip could muster as he saw his wife's face in his room's personal comm system. It had been several days since he last saw her and knowing T'Pol she was probably still really mad at him. But he had to see her. Just talk to her for a few minutes about something…anything.   
  
He was only slightly relieved to see the same look of need in her own eyes.   
  
"Charles." She said breathlessly and Trip's heart almost stopped with desire for his wife. It was really testament to his level of commitment for T'Pol that she could provoke this kind of school boy reaction out of him after all these years.   
  
That or he was hopelessly whipped, both explanations worked.   
  
"I trust you have had time to think about your…indiscretion?" That brought him back to reality. "Oh fer chrissake, I tried to spare your feelings not cheat on you." He rolled his eyes as he spoke, determined to win this time.   
  
"I am a Vulcan, I have no feelings."   
  
"Three kids say different, babe."   
  
"You lied."   
  
"BY OMISSION!"   
  
"There is little difference." He watched in the monitor as her head titled ever so slightly and a single eyebrow rose towards her forehead. "Are you getting emotional?"   
  
"I'm a guy, T'Pol, I don't get emotion-"Trip stopped himself before he even began down that road of questioning. He certainly didn't need to get tangled in that conversation again. Because there were just some topics she always beat him on and emotional control was without fail one of those topics.   
  
Holding out his hands in a sort of undiminished shrug-slash-begging gesture, Trip tried to make his voice sound as utterly plaintive as possible. "Look, what do you want me to say?"   
  
"An apology."   
  
Part of his brain, the thinking side of reason and strategy, insisted that if he apologized she'd win and he'd be her utter slave for the rest of this marriage. He naturally disregarded this advice since he also knew that he was already this woman's slave and not apologizing to her would only make things worse. T'Pol could theoretically go seven years without sex, Trip knew he couldn't wait that long. "I apologize." No sooner had he said that, deep within his scrotum Trip could swear he felt his testicals shrink into the size of two green peas.   
  
T'Pol seemed oddly gracious about his admission of guilt and silently accepted it with only a slight bow of her head. Then with only a beat of silence, the subject was dropped and they moved on to other pressing matters. Things they needed to talk about. "How is Charles?"   
  
Trip sighed, leaning back in his chair as the memories of the past few days washed over him. "He's good, I guess, got em to let him out that damned cell a his."   
  
"That is good news I trust?" T'Pol paused for a moment and he could tell she was bracing herself in a way for the rest of the conversation. "Then there is also bad news I assume as well?"   
  
"The girl's father is…"  
  
"Protective?"  
  
Trip shook his head slightly but was glad for her insight nonetheless. "I'd say more like vindictive. There's no reasoning with him."   
  
"Fathers can be like that."   
  
Trip laughed as his wife's comment suddenly reminded him of her own father's reaction to their engagement years ago. "I'll say! Remember yours?"   
  
T'Pol's eyes glazed over with wistful memory and her body seemed to relax into the chair for just a moment as her brain searched the years for the time they were both thinking of. "As I recall, he refused to let us sleep in the same house on the night you came to ask them for their blessing."   
  
"Yeah! I had to hunker down on yer porch for two days." Another laugh, "And I nearly had a heart attack when that monster you call a childhood pet curled up next to me on that first night!"   
  
"Kovir was merely trying to stay warm."   
  
"He was a three hundred pound Lematya, T'Pol; I think he wanted a little southern cuisine."   
  
T'Pol merely flashed him a look of displeasure that only made him laugh harder then ever. It was a running joke; at least it was to Trip, that if it had not been for Kovir's well timed introduction they might have never received her family's blessing to marry. T'Pol's mother had witnessed Trip's extreme discomfort with the large beast and decided to-  
  
A thought tugged at her brain and T'Pol found herself thinking of an option her husband may not yet have considered, an option that had only recently proven it worked well.. "Her mother."   
  
Trip laughter slowed and he wiped the tears from his eyes as he responded. "How's that?"   
  
"Perhaps you should try talking to the girl's mother, she may be more receptive."   
  
He started to shake his head no but slowly stopped. She had a pretty good point. In fact, she had a VERY good point. "T'Pol you're beautiful!" he exclaimed as he quickly pressed the sign off button and ended the transmission.   
  
Perhaps he should have stayed connected just a little longer he would have seen the ghost of a smile that played across her face. "You are welcome, my mate."   
  
************************************************************************   
  
Travis nearly dislocated his neck just from shaking it. "Hell no!" He waved his hands in the hopes that it might actually emphasize his displeasure, "HELL NO!"   
  
Trip stood across from Travis in his temporary office with his arms folded and a sour expression playing across his face. "That's the four times you've said that."   
  
"And it's the fourth time I mean it." Travis said firmly, "After how you treated talking to Vetar there is NO WAY I'm gonna let you talk to this girl's mother-"  
  
"It's for my boy." Trip said softly and Mayweather suddenly found himself out of excuses. Reaching for the nearest PADD he could find, he brought up the diplomatic contact listing and pushed it over to Trip's side of the desk with a heavy sigh.   
  
Then, without even looking at him, Mayweather said something that made Trip's blood turn to ice. "Fine, but if you talk to her the same way you talked to her ex-husband, you are gonna single handedly destroy what little diplomatic relations we have left with the Kriosians."   
  
A creeping fear set up camp in Trip's stomach and he took the PADD from Travis with shaking fingers. "K-Kriosian?" He whispered, "As in from the planet Krios Prime?"   
  
Travis shrugged blankly, "I guess so, you know them better me." the Admiral paused a moment and reconsider his previous statement very carefully as new memories started flowing in from the back of his brain, "Hey! Wasn't that woman you resc-"  
  
"YES!" Certain tugging familiarities that Trip had felt when he met Vetar had started bouncing around in his head like rubber balls and he began kicking himself that he hadn't realized where it had come from before. Tan skin, pale silky clothing, crappy attitude.   
  
Another shrug and Trip began to wonder if his old friend had some kind of nervous tick he didn't know about. "It's a big universe Trip, I'm sure it's someone totally different."   
  
Nonetheless, Trip had to dare himself to look at the name of this girl's mother, hoping against hope that Krios had a humongous royal family and this girl was in no way related to…  
  
He read the name.   
  
No such luck.   
  
"T'Pol's gonna kill me."   
  
To Be Continued 


	6. 6

A/N: Before I begin, I just want to say that while writing this chapter I was forced to really review how I saw the Princess Kaitaama character. I watched Precious Cargo fifteen times just to get the characterization right and create what I thought was a realistic future for the bitchy Princess we all love to hate. Soon I fell in love with this character and felt she was worth an entire chapter rather then just a blurb at the end. I even started enjoying the performance Padma Lashmi provided for her in the episode. As of the posting of this chapter, Kaitaama is now my favorite guest character on the show and I am honestly regretting not giving her more time in this story.   
  
************************************************************************   
  
First Monarch Kaitaama, great leader of the planet Krios Prime and beloved public figure across three sectors of space dropped wearily on to the massive bed and did her best to close her eyes and shut out the world around her. To millions across the galaxy, she was a beloved diplomat and celebrity who worked hard to bring peace and look fabulous in the most expensive gowns she could buy. She was a pinnacle, a mountain top that people strove to either please or become more like. In every possible way, Kaitaama was a perfect role model for the beauty and understanding of Kriosian society. But when the day ended she was still just a divorced mother of two who was getting older.   
  
And lonelier.   
  
No one looked at her like a person anymore; to them she was just this respected, nigh-omnipotent ruler who was expected to have the answers to every single problem of her subject's day to day lives. She never got to just fulfill her own needs. She never got to be herself. Things like sexual feelings or personal hobbies? Forget it; men were too afraid to even approach her anymore and there was never any time to-  
  
The intercom on the night table beeped and the voice of her personal secretary filled the darkened room. "Your highness?"  
  
"Somebody better be dead!"   
  
The irritation in his sovereign's tone scared the young man on the other end of the line and after a brief pause, Kaitaama could tell her servant was sweating by the sound of his shaky voice. "You have a visitor."   
  
A scowl played across her countenance, who would dare attempt to see her at this time of night. She waited for the secretary to continue but the sweating must have clogged the man's vocal cords.   
  
"GO ON!"   
  
"I-it's a human. A Starfleet officer named Charles Tucker the….third? I think that's the number."   
  
Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the name. Charles Tucker. Now there was a face she hadn't seen since before she took the throne.  
  
And a body she hadn't…  
  
Memories of strong hands caressing her naked skin in the warm swamp night came sailing back across the ocean of years and she distantly wondered if he was still handsome.   
  
"Mistress? Shall I send him away?"   
  
"NO!" She screeched, suddenly realizing how desperate that made her sound, "I mean to say…no, he's welcome."   
  
"Shall I show him-"  
  
Another screech. She wasn't ashamed of this one though. "ARE YOU CRAZY? Let me do my hair at least."  
  
************************************************************************   
  
The sweaty little man in the fancy green robes led Trip down a gorgeous hallway past a row of beautifully carved statues of naked Kriosians doing very naughty things to each other. He wished he had a phase pistol right around his third step. Trip did not want to be here and he certainly didn't want to talk to Kaitaama again after all these years.   
  
In spite of his reputation, one night stands were not his natural method of interactions with women. He was supposed to be a upstanding southern gentleman for god's sake! He had only one or two of these types of encounters in his memory and he'd never had to talk to those women ever again. How would she greet him? Would she be upset he never contacted her for nearly twenty years and then all of a sudden, poof, there he was?   
  
What if she thought he was here for…stuff?   
  
There were more naughty statues and a few really naughty paintings as they wandered through the beautifully carved doorways and rooms to the First Monarch's chambers. Tucker began wondering what the hell was wrong with Kriosian artists that they could draw a person with clothes on. The sweaty green man seemed to take no notice of the outright soft core porn hanging on the walls around him and Trip figured it had to be a culture shock kind of thing. He was used to it.   
  
They finally came to huge golden door with symbols and jewels and lavish carvings meant to display the power and wealth of the woman who resided with in it. The sweaty men pushed open the door with a little grunt of exertion and motioned for Tucker to make his entrance. No sooner had he taken three steps into the richly decadent bedroom, that he heard the heavy door slam behind him. Then he saw her.   
  
Kaitaama was dressed in long flowing silk gown, not unlike the one he first saw her in on the kidnapper's ship, and a pair of simple yet somehow expensive looking open toed flat heeled shoes that matched the gown perfectly. She was draped, not subtly, across a statue of two Kriosian women locked in some kind of…naughty embrace that made Trip's pants feel very tight just looking at it. And although he had thought she'd be ready for bed at a god awful hour like this, she was wearing full make up and her hair was done perfectly. Her fingers and wrists glittered with all the precious jewels and bracelets adorning her like she was some kind of jeweler's floor model. She looked great for a woman pushing forty-five, still tall and lean and gorgeous.   
  
Trip wanted to run. Over and over, the words happily married, happily married, happily married played through his head like a religious mantra. There was no way he was ever telling T'Pol about this.   
  
"Well, it seems the great and terrible King of the Swamp has finally decided to re-conquer Krios Prime. I just hope this innocent young queen has SOMETHING to appease him that will spare her poor planet." She said breathlessly and Tucker could swear that her voice sounded like sex in audio form. Distantly he remembered what his old buddy Jon used to say in situations like this…  
  
"Oh boy."   
  
************************************************************************   
  
"You could have mentioned you were here on business before I made a fool of myself." Kaitaama finished pouring the sweet smelling coffee stuff into Trip's mug and flashed an apologetic smile in his direction. "Still I guess I shouldn't have tried to play that nasty trick on you."   
  
They both sat on the large stone balcony, drinking the warm liquid in the cool night air. It was still a little awkward for both of them but now they were both equally embarrassed so it didn't seem to matter so much. Kaitaama had thrown the poor engineer the excuse that her previous behavior had been a prank, a practical joke between old friends, but Trip was starting to notice looks here and there that implied other wise, making it that much more tempting to bolt the room.   
  
"So what can I do for you, Commander?" She said after a few more moments of awkward quiet.   
  
"Actually it's Captain now."   
  
"Ah." She responded with a nod, "Then I assume you have a ship of your own?"   
  
Tucker chuckled nervously and she watched as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Uh…not anymore. I used to have a ship called the Lincoln but I never got to see my family so I took a desk job on Earth."   
  
"Ah," Kaitaama's heart sank into her toes when she heard the word 'family'. Family meant wife and kids. The idea that no one had landed a catch like this was just too good to be true. She tried to change the subject, "My daughter and I once went to Earth on a goodwill mission and it's a very nice-"   
  
"Actually it's your daughter I'm here to talk to you about." Trip almost laughed when he watched the First Monarch's eye brow rose in a suspiciously 'T'Pol' like mannerism. Kind of funny really.   
  
"How do you know Nerul?"   
  
"Uh, I don't." He sighed and tried to find an easy way to break this. A way that wouldn't sound weird. "My son, Charley, he knows your daughter."   
  
Kaitaama's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped into the floor. She struggled to find the words to necessary to express the feelings of utter shock and amazement. "Charley? My Nerul's Charley? The one she doesn't shut up about? Is your s-son?"   
  
Trip nodded, he closed his eyes to keep from laughing nervously, "Small universe, huh?"   
  
"By the Great Bird…" She eyed him suspiciously, trying to see if this was a joke or a con or something, "Did they know…about us?"   
  
"I doubt it. T'Pol, that's my wife, was the only one who ever knew. She wasn't happy but we never told my kids about the stuff I was into before we got married."   
  
"Well, I never told Nerul."   
  
Tucker sighed, "Yeah well it gets worse."   
  
"How much worse?"   
  
************************************************************************   
  
"I cannot believe that worthless piece of slime actually brought charges against your son!" The First Monarch fumed, nearly tearing apart the marble banister she was leaning against. "When I took the throne, I swore that my children would be allowed to fall in love with anyone that the old ways would be gone. But he's…I mean he just…" She growled and gave up trying to understand the rage.   
  
They stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for the gathered butlers to have the First Monarch's bags packed and ready to go for the four hour flight to Deep Space One. Kaitaama would motion here and there with more authority then he'd ever seen in a woman, he smiled when he realized how different and much more impressive she was then the spoiled girl he shared a swamp with. Also made him wonder something. "If you hate Vetar so much, why'd you marry him?"   
  
She shrugged, still focusing her attention on monitoring the preparations for her travel. "We were both young, both rich, and both noble." She paused to motion where she wanted a trunk filled with shoes to go. "Besides he was different then. Nicer."   
  
"But even though you've divorced he still gets to stay second in command of the whole planet, right?"   
  
"Right."   
  
"Sounds a little unfair if you ask me."  
  
"Unfair?" Kaitaama's back was turned but Trip was fairly certain he heard a few tears in her voice. It made him feel like crap just listening to her. "Unfair is a young girl waiting decades for the handsome space man who changed her life to come back and marry her and then find out he's still very handsome and also very married with three children and a vulcan wife who probably never looks a day over twenty five while the girl panics every time she finds a new laugh line under her eyes and stopped talking to the brutal animal she divorced years ago."   
  
"Kaitaama-" She waved her hands to get him to stop before he began and turned around to look him square in the eye, the tears he thought he heard had already been wiped away.   
  
"Just answer me this, human, if things had been different, really different, it would have been you and not Vetar, right?"   
  
Trip didn't say anything. Just nodded. She seemed very comforted by that, very happy. "That's all I wanted to know." She whispered and Trip's heart broke as he watched her turn and leave, barking orders at her servants to make her star cruiser ready for travel.   
  
Part of him felt really bad for lying to her because deep down inside he knew that even back when he and Kaitaama had been together, T'Pol was simply the only girl he'd ever truly loved.   
  
To be continued 


	7. 7

Complaints against Starfleet officers by civilians of any stature are always considered a serious matter by the Judge Advocate General's office and are almost always handled immediately after they've been filed. On this particular occasion, since the complaint is coming from a head of a foreign state, the hearing and the filing will be going on simultaneously. Vetar will be given a chance to both accuse and bear witness against Charles Tucker IV all in one afternoon.   
  
And there was nothing Travis Mayweather could do about it. He sat staring at the wall towards the back of the converted conference room   
  
He had watched as the Bailiff called the court to rise and JAG Admiral Monroe entered into the room, his admiral's bars shining in the flashes of various pressmen's cameras and a deep feeling of dread set into his stomach. The 'court room' was filled with both reporters and Kriosian lawyers, because between Vetar and Charley's celebrity status and the fact that this was the first time an alien government had actually pursued legal action against a citizen of Earth made this one of the most publicized hearings Travis had ever attended.   
  
Monroe was on older man, pushing sixty, with balding gray hair and face that looked like sour milk. As the bell rang calling the session to order, the old man slid slowly into his chair and perched a pair of spectacles on his nose as he called for someone to hand him the case file and docket brief. It was a good thirty seconds before he even bothered to call the court to sit back down.   
  
"Be seated." He said finally and there was a lot of rustling and shifting around as everyone found their chairs again.   
  
As soon as things settled down, Vetar didn't wait for the Admiral to finish reading his case file and simply started speaking with, at least what he thought, a righteous anger coloring his voice. "I would like to begin by saying that my daughter is a minor under Kriosian-"  
  
"But not under Earth's." Monroe didn't even both looking up from the PADD in front of him as he gently rebuked the fuming War King, "Eighteen is the legal age on our planet and all the starships and space stations we build, so don't go barking up that tree understand?"   
  
"I was assured a fair day in court, Admiral."   
  
This is what finally made him pay full attention to King Vetar and Monroe's eye brow came up from it's resting position in a maneuver that would have made any Vulcan very pleased, "You're getting it right now." There was more fuming on the part of Vetar which lead to a lot of uneasy grumbling from the front row of Kriosian lawyers and statesmen. Not many people could understand them but it was fairly evident that the words 'show trial' had been used a few times. Monroe was very quick to but a end to it. "But I'll tell you what; I'm going to allow the suspension of certain Starfleet regulations to allow some Kriosian court procedures to be used in this courtroom today?" A semblance of order returned and several more flashbulbs went off in the judge's face, causing him to rethink the wisdom of Earth's Fourth Estate Laws. Eventually he continued as though the newsmen weren't even there. "So based on what I know of your laws, your daughter is indeed a minor in the eyes of Krios Prime, right? Now the parents…who the hell are you?" The Admiral was actually behind the room in this case since he was obviously the last person to notice the long train of well dressed Kriosians parading into the courtroom amid flashbulbs and more grumbling from the front row.   
  
Charley took note of his father and the woman he knew as Nerul's mother in the lead.   
  
"Your honor, I would like to join these proceedings."  
  
"You can't, now go away." Monroe nearly spat his next sentence at the lowly junior lieutenant acting as bailiff in the corner of the room. "Who let these people in here?"   
  
But before the security officer could even respond, Travis was on his feet and in front of Admiral Monroe. "Actually I did, Jeff."   
  
"And who the hell are they Travis?"   
  
"I, sir, am First Monarch Kaitaama Essamol of Krios Prime. Grand Leader of the Sixth Circle, High Chancellor of the Eight Moons and-"  
  
"VERY NEARLY IN CONTEMPT OF COURT!" Monroe said between clenched teeth. He didn't appreciate having his hearings turned into a circus by anyone, no matter what titles they held. "Any way, before I was interrupted I was trying to make sure that if a Kriosian parent feels his child's rights have been violated, that parent may speak for his child in a court of law in the event that the minor cannot be there in person, am I right?"   
  
Vetar and his row of lawyers all seemed to nod profusely but the was a huge sound of dissent from Kaitaama's side as the First Monarch innocently raised her hand and waived it in the air until the Admiral acknowledged her right to interject with a slight bow of his head. "That's actually incorrect; it's the parent with dominant custody of the child."   
  
Monroe scratched his head as the subtle nuances of Kriosian parental law threatened to cause him a headache. "So are you the girl?"   
  
"I'm flattered that you think I'm that young Admiral, but no. I'm her mother."   
  
"Well, then where the hell is the girl Mr. Vetar claims was…violated?" Vetar bit his lower lip in expectation of his ex wife's next move. It was a small gesture but Travis took it as a good sign, if Vetar was worried then his case wasn't doing so well.   
  
"She's on Bolia." Kaitaama grinned; she knew exactly where this is going, "At school."   
  
"So the girl isn't here?"  
  
Kaitaama didn't even need to look at Vetar to see the slow forming scowl but the proximity to his displeasure always brought her joy with or without seeing it. "That is correct, your honor."   
  
"So which one of you has dominant custody of the Princess and is willing to speak on her behalf?"   
  
Vetar's voice sounded like a low grumble as he made a half motion with his hand towards Kaitaama. "She does."   
  
"Very well. Queen Kaitaama, as the parent with custody," Monroe emphasized the last three words and looked directly at Vetar when he said them, "Do you have any objections to Ensign Tucker's relationship with your daughter?"   
  
"Not if it remains with in reason, Admiral." Kaitaama said as she flashed a smile at Charley's confused face. "I would like the Ensign to please keep in mind that I want to become a grandmother eventually." Vetar opened his mouth suddenly as if to say something very nasty, probably how he'd disown any low class half breed spawn his daughter and this mongrel would create together, but he was stopped by Commander Tucker's harsh whisper ringing in his ear.   
  
"You say one fuckin' word and I swear I'll knock you right on your ass!"   
  
There was a loud ringing sound as the courtroom bell the proceedings to an end, causing Charley to fall into the chair behind him like a puppet with the strings cut. It was over, it was finally over.   
  
People began to file out and picture flashes came from every direction but all Trip cared about was his son, who sat with his jaw open and a look of mild shock plastered on his face. "Charley, what's wrong?"   
  
"I didn't think we'd actually win." He said with a low, relieved sigh and Trip chuckled at the boy's reaction of awe. Mainly because he'd believed the same thing until just now.   
  
"Captain?"   
  
The voice made Trip turn and his back go rigid. "Yes, your highness?" Kaitaama seemed to look a little teary eyed for a moment but pressed the conversation nonetheless.   
  
"I trust everything is in order? Nothing else you need from me?"   
  
"Kaitaama, thank you."   
  
She walked toward him, getting very close so she could whisper right in his ear and say "I just feel glad knowing my daughter has excellent taste in men, Mr. Tucker." Trip smiled when he heard that and held that smile right up until Kaitaama did something very embarrassing. She leaned forward and kissed him, hard on the lips in front of every one. Flashes of holo cameras and digital recorders from every reporter in the room forced him to close his eyes briefly. He wouldn't find out until much later that this made it look like he was 'enjoying' the kiss. She finally released him, leaving Tucker with absolutely no idea how to react. "Goodbye, my Swamp King." She said in a husky, sexy voice as she strolled out the door and down the hall to the docking bay.   
  
While everyone in the room was equally shocked and amazed no one was more dumbfounded then Trip's own son. Charley looked at his father with wary eyes and a crooked grimace that could have made a walrus seasick. "Dad, what just happened he-"  
  
Trip interrupted his son before a very unpleasant conversation started. "Charley, if you know what's good for yah, you'll keep yer mouth shut from now on," Tucker's voice sat on the edge of panic and spousal fear, "And for the love of god don't tell your mother I kissed to her."   
  
************************************************************************   
  
T'Pol pushed the shopping basket through the baked goods aisle to the long shelf where cupcakes were sold, looking for the ones with the strawberry frosting and chocolate sprinkles she knew T'Mir loved so much.   
  
She had decided to celebrate with her daughters since this morning she had received a call from the university asking her to consider being rehired on the grounds that her replacement had proven inadequate. Naturally she only agreed after they finally decided to make her the new chair of the Physics department.   
  
T'Mir kicked her feet against the cart impatiently as she waited for her mother to find the confection she desired so much. "I believe them to be at the end."   
  
"I do not see them, T'Mir."   
  
"If they are not there we must take this matter to the manager!"   
  
"It is not the manager's fault that they have run out of your favorite item."  
  
T'Mir tried to argue about her case about who's fault it was that they were out of cupcakes but T'Pol was no longer concentrating. Her eyes were on the changing headlines of the Neptune Colony Free Press by the checkout aisle.   
  
Great advances in subspace communication networks and data PADD technology had made it possible to create "living newspapers". Every hour or so the thin screens lining the display racks of news paper stands and super markets all over that particular periodical's area of circulation slowly transitioned into a very important headline.   
  
SMOOCHIES!   
  
MONARCH KAI'S COURTROOM TRYST WITH STARFLEET HERO   
  
And there it was beneath the headline, a very clear color picture of Trip, her husband, receiving a long hard kiss from a woman who she had once seen tangled around his arm on distant planet years ago.   
  
T'Pol first felt an impulse to get angry or upset about this. The temptation for jealousy was certainly there. This was one of her husband's former conquests, lovingly embracing the man who had sworn eternal fidelity to her. But T'Pol also remembered that she had been angry at him before in similar situations and assumed infidelity right away before but more often then not Tucker was always proven to be innocent, if not slightly irresponsible. Oh she was certainly going to talk about it with him, nothing in the universe was going to let him squirm his way out of that. But that didn't mean she thought he did something wrong, she just wanted an explanation. In the end it all came down to how much she trusted her husband to do the right thing every time.   
  
"I trust him a great deal." She said quietly to herself, willing to hear Trip's explanation before condemning him automatically. Because in the end that was simply what their marriage was about: telling the truth and listening intently.   
  
"Who do you trust mother?" T'Mir said curiously from her place in the cart seat.   
  
"Your father."   
  
"I do not." T'Mir said as she crossed her arms in disgust, unconsciously jutting out her lip. T'Pol's eyebrow lifted in surprise.  
  
"Oh? And why not?"   
  
"He does not take me to work with him." She said with a slight frown, "He could be doing anything, like hiding my birthday gifts in his office."   
  
If T'Pol had been human and not Vulcan, she would have laughed.   
  
************************************************************************   
  
  
  
It was good to be home. That was all Tucker could think after crisscrossing the universe and explaining away a very suggestive holo-photo and staring down angry royalty and....well, it was just good to be home with the woman he loved more then life itself.   
  
Tuning his mind to pleasant things, Trip kissed his wife as she slid her pajama top over her head and onto her naked chest. She returned the kisses with equal passion and she began to reconsider the logic of getting dressed for bed at all. A thought popped into her mind of the last time she and her husband had been intimate and found a rather disturbing trend appearing in their marriage. "It has been a month since we last copulated." Tucker's velvet assault on every surface of her skin moved from her mouth to her neck and he groaned his answer between kisses.   
  
"I know, it's been agony." Trip moved his hand beneath the top of her shirt and squeezed the globe he found there, "I need another session right now!"   
  
By session, T'Pol knew he was referring to the neuro pressure sessions that usually turned into sex before they even began and suddenly the memory of past encounters earlier in their relationship caused a wave a of warm sexual stimulus to course through her body like an electric current of unseen energy. "But I am too tired tonight; perhaps you should ask Kaitaama to help you." He paused a moment, then realized she was joking and pinched her roughly on the upper thigh.   
  
"That's not funny."   
  
"I never joke."   
  
"You are such a liar." He whispered with a smile. Just then she felt his roving hands clawing passionately at the waist band of her night clothes and a grunt of satisfaction as her own fingers dived into the depths of her spouse's black boxers, seeking the instrument of her upcoming pleasure. She forced herself to suppress a smile when she gripped it and watched him groan in ecstasy as she began tracing some of it's more prominent veins with the tip of her thumb. But soon it was her turn to groan when she felt a soft tongue running across the outer edge of her earlobe with just enough pleasure to make her knees weak. They fell back on to the bed, knowing full well that they were about to lose control and start tearing at one another like animals.   
  
"Mommy? Daddy?" The small voice brought their ministrations to a screeching halt.   
  
Standing in the door way in a Starfleet issue T- shirt that reached her knees was their youngest daughter, T'Mir. She was clutching Cardinal Richelieu, a plush selaht her Vulcan grandmother had given her for her birthday two years ago, with tears streaming down her face and expression of sheer terror on in her eyes. She asked again, this time calling out just to T'Pol. "M-Mommy?" It was a rare sight for their normally very serious daughter to ever cry or call her mother 'mommy', but now in the door way she seemed just as vulnerable as every other little girl who had a secret fear of the dark.  
  
"What is wrong daughter?"   
  
"I-I had a bad dream, C-can I sleep with you tonight."   
  
The couple sighed and disengaged themselves from the awkward positions of attempted spousal bliss, re-closing buttons and smoothing out wrinkled pajamas. It was time to be parents once again.  
  
"Sure sweetie." Trip said as he helped her snuggle beneath the covers of the king sized bed and he flashed a silent apology to T'Pol who nodded in understanding. There would be other time for sex, other moments to sate desire. Right now there was closet monster to be slayed and a little girl to comfort.   
  
  
  
THE END   
  
A/N: I swore to myself that I'd never do another seven chapter story after Wedlock but I just had to write that chapter six with all those Kaitaama scenes, I loved how she turned out. Seriously, I want to know what you guys thought about this story so I know if I should start on a sequel. 


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